Hermione's Fallen Angel*
by Hermione7
Summary: This is a D/H ficcy, and a little bit parody, so it's definitely not your normal romance. Hope you like it! Please R/R!!
1. Default Chapter

~*~Draco and Hermione~*~

**~*~Hermione's Fallen Angel ~*~**

Chapter One 

(Author's Note: Ok then! A new ficcy from Moi! Aren't I just wonderful? LOL. As always please expect this to be very long… lotsa chapters, yadda, yadda, yadda, you know the drill. Personally, I'm a Hermione/Ron shipper, but those are so boring to write, and Drakey dearest is one of my favourite characters. He's so spoiled and mean and cute it's just hilarious, and I'm into that whole deal. It's told mainly from Draco's view of things, though not exactly in his POV. This is not only a romance novel, but also slightly a parody. It's not exactly your average romance… more like Draco acts, er, strange… and he's really, really snobby, but he's the one who figures he wants Herm for a girlfriend, so he's very abrupt. Hermione doesn't exactly see things from his point of view… So of course, there are plenty of laughs… Okay, yeah, that's enough of a sneak peek for you! And puh-lease, no flames saying, "Oh, God, they do not act that way!" ok? It's meant to be a bit OoC. At the beginning of each chapter I write down part of a song that pretty much fits… and then at the end of the chapter I finish the song. So, be looking out for that. Here's to the Snob and the Bookworm, okay? LOL. Please note that some jokes I think only my friend Dani Hall will get (SilverPhoenixWings) so just hang with me okay? I have no muse, and am sad since Dani gots a pretty phoenix. But I gots Todd! LOL. See below. Oh, and this chapter's song is just for fun. Now… onward!)

((Disclaimer: Ok now, I'm only doing this once, so kindly listen up. Here is a nice little policy I have: I no take credit; you no sue. LOL. Okay then? Joanne (or Jackie) Kathleen Rowling owns the whole to do, but I own the plot and this dude name Todd. Yep, he's the hott guy inside my pinky who whispers sweet nothings to me, which I sometimes transfer to my stories. Ok then.))

(((Dedication: To SilverPhoenixWings, my partner in crime and current co-story-co-writer, if you can get that. Also to lilygirl simply because she's just fabulous and an excellent poem writer. Yeah, and I'd also like to dedicate this to the little darling who first informed me about ff.n… yeah, you know who you are, sweetheart.)))

((((Slap In The Face: Yes, hi, thank you for reading this little important note. I refuse to name any names, but this is my official Slap In The Face to this guy… who's a total prat. He used to be my best friend, and now he's been swept up into the wonderful world of 'Leave me alone because I have a girlfriend and don't need you to talk to anymore'. Right. Well, he knows who he is, and I think some of you know too. Okay, so maybe I don't have the blonde hair he likes, and maybe I don't have eyes like the sky, but if that's his idea of a girlfriend, count me out, thanks. I'd like to leave him with three of my favourite quotes (hopefully his puny brain will be able to process them enough so he gets the point.) 1. "Bring it on!" 2. "That's all right, that's okay, I never loved you anyway," and my personal fave… 3. "Wassup with you? You no it's not fair, you pay me no attention when I'm standin' right there. Well it's all good, and it's all right, you're gonna regret this for the rest of your life. 'Cause I'm goin' on two, and I'm about to blow up; when you see me on TV you'll know you messed up. So remember this quote, and remember my name: it's Hermione of ff.n and making a fool of you's the game." Thanks to SPW who inspired me to do this… that felt really good!))))

Sometimes I have dreams; I picture myself in them. Above the clouds, high in the sky, conquering the world with my magic piano. Never being scared, but then I realize… I'm super girl, and I'm here to save the world, but I wanna know who's gonna save me. I'm super girl, and I'm here to save the world, but I wanna know why I feel so alone. Seems like a dream, just a fantasy, nobody's here with me, to share and know that I've been given, I need someone that's strong enough for me… I'm super girl, and I'm here to save the world, but I wanna know why I feel so alone. I'm super girl, and I'm here to save the world, but I wanna know why I feel so alone…

** **

"Yes, yes, well Mr. Malfoy, I don't quite see why you're here my boy. After I preformed the correct charms last time, I already told you that I'd come to the conclusion that you're in perfect mental stability. It's as simple as that I'm afraid,"

Draco Malfoy crossed his arms stubbornly, looking more like a child of five than a young man of fifteen. This was the fourth time he'd visited Dr. Wexler's, a magic physiatrist. "And _I've_ told _you_ that I'm hallucinating," he howled, always the spoiled one. He tapped his foot impatiently on the deep blue carpet, and dug his knuckles into the squishy leather-like couch that you would often find in Muggle physiatrists offices. 

"Mr. Malfoy," Dr. Wexler intoned patiently. "If I may humbly express my hypothesis, I would say that it is perfectly normal for a boy your age to start having feelings for a young woman,"

"I am _not_ having feeling for her!" Draco hissed lividly at the man. "I've told you countless times already that I'm hallucinating! I demand that you tell me that I'm hallucinating right now- right now!" he spat out hastily, his cheeks glowing red with anger.

"But, Mr. Malfoy, it is not of my good medical judgment to do so-"

"Might I remind you, Wexler, that Lucius, my father, has you right under his thumb? Let me warn you that Daddy Dearest doesn't like it when I get mad, because then it starts to make him angry!" Draco prodded the doctor's shoulder angrily. "So if I were you, I'd hurry this whole thing up and tell me I'm hallucinating- or Lucius shall here of this!"

Dr. Wexler turned pale, and gulped. He knew all too well what a very bad idea it was to get on the wrong side of Lucius Malfoy, so nothing was worth risking that. "Er, yes, of course then. I believe you're just hallucinating my boy. To help these- uh- hallucinations to stop, you might try taking a spoonful of nettle wine mixed up in a cup of hot water right before bed,"

"Thank you, doctor," Draco smirked and rose from the couch. "I will leave now," he said airily as if the doctor should get down on the floor so Draco could walk over him as to not dirty his feet on the way out. 

"Er, will your father be hearing about our session?" asked Dr. Wexler nervously. Draco spun around, and narrowed his eyelids, looking simply scathing. A sneer curled up at the sides of his mouth and his cold, gray eyes glinted with both amusement and malice.

"No, thankfully for you he has business to attend to all this week so I won't speak to him about it," he turned and left without another word, slamming the door behind him. Dr. Wexler clasped his hand together and shut his eyes, tilting his head heavenward.

"Oh thank you, thank you, dear Lord!" he cried, almost sarcastically.

Meanwhile, Draco sniffed loudly, feeling flustered but slightly better now that it was down in writing he was only having hallucinations. To tell the truth about it all, Lucius Malfoy had no idea his son had been going to therapy, because he had no idea of Draco's problems. He had never been close to his son, and Draco certainly did not want to just mention casually to his Death-Eater father that he was having horrid hallucinations. One just didn't do that, and certainly he would not tell Narcissa. That was just an absurd idea within itself.

Scowling to himself for no reason inparticular except perhaps hidden anxiety and maybe buried worry, he hopped on his Nimbus 2001 and kicked off, soaring high into the clouds. Slowly but surely, his scowl lightened and softened into a faint, dreamy smile, the way it always did when he was in the air. Wind with such velocity was whipping his face and it felt so cool and good, he felt as free as though he were someone like Weasley, someone who didn't have out-of-the-ordinary burdens thrust upon him since his very day of birth, someone who had real caring mums and dads not just 'parental units', and someone who was loved. Up in the air, the sky loved and worshiped him, and the sun bestowed on him its heavenly rays of inhuman supernatural bewitchment.

Flying, when not playing Quidditch of course, was a good place for Draco to mull his life over, and usually he didn't like the things he saw flashing through his mind. On the very day he graduated from Hogwarts, only three school years' time, Lucius and Lord Voldemort highly expected him to become a Death Eater. Being the stubborn, crafty spoiled brat he was, Draco didn't want to become one simply for defiance's sake, but how could he even begin to refuse if 'Avada Kedavra' was waiting for him on the other end of things? And it wasn't like he was a happy-go-lucky goody-goody like Potter who actually cared that he wasn't bad and evil; Draco just found it very fun to resist any command dealt to him.

He could faintly see greens and browns and grays and silvers and golds and rainbow-like colours on the ground far below, and he sighed, knowing he would reach Malfoy Mansion soon. Yes, that was right, back to the God d***ed house elves and civilized life not in the air. But nothing could damper his smile that had spread almost to a grin from the thrill of flight, and he thought to himself how he must get some nettle wine. It sounded like a highly stupid cure, but anything to get rid of his little, er, 'situation'. 

Blinking rapidly from the air, he began to tilt the broom forward slightly since the big, stone mansion was within viewing range. Faster and faster he raced to the ground, and this was truly a credit to his amazing Seeker ability skills. And Potter and Weasley had said that he had just gotten on the team because Lucius bought them brooms. Actually, the whole thing was the Draco got accepted to the team and told Lucius they all needed better brooms to win Potter, so naturally Mr. Malfoy was more than eager to agree. Only about thirty more yards now until he hit the smooth, cool deep green grass… twenty yards, ten yards… and he came to a neat and tidy stop.

Scowling once again for nothing at all, he grabbed his broom, and walked up the long, tall granite steps to the double front doors, and with a click of a handle, he flung them open, storming in once again in a bad mood. A house elf bowed to him, and without a word, he bitterly thrust his broom at the timid thing and marched up the white marble stairs. "Draco, sweetheart, darling, do come look at this," called Narcissa's clear, lazy and pampered voice. Draco clenched his fists at his sides and gritted his teeth.

"_Yes_, Narcissa," he said sweetly, and followed the sound of her voice, which led into a large empty room. It was Draco's little game to act, uh, strange around his parents along with being deliberately defiant. He of course called them by their first names, as most of the Slytherins did to their parents, but he acted giggly and girlish and bouncy around his just to see their mortified faces. Narcissa, being so flighty and almost un-real barely noticed it and talked to Draco- when she did at all- as though he were a teenage girl (who was quite sissy-ish) instead of a bold, sarcastic, antagonistic teenage boy. Lucius most definitely noticed it, but he put up with it, although annoyed.

Draco reached the room Narcissa was in and he put a silly grin on his face and acted like he was simply delighted to see her. "Oh, Drakey, dearest, look at this marvelous painting!" she pointed to a very old one of a bunch of fruit (which was moving around) in a basket. In reality, that painting had been sitting there since they had built the house, but Draco went along with it.

"Oh, Narcissa, sweetheart, it's simply marvelous," he let out a high giggle. "You just noticed it though darling? Why that silly old thing's been there for just ages!" he said in an unusually girlish tone. Narcissa let out a tinkling laugh and playfully tapped his shoulder. "Are you still having that simply delicious cocktail party for your friends tonight?"

"Oh, well yes, Draco, of course. You just have to come! All the girls are just dying to see you again you know. Oh, Draco dear, puh-lease say you'll come and make me the happiest woman alive?" she practically bounced.

"I wouldn't dream not to," Draco clicked his tongue, and let out another shrill giggle. "We'll have ever so much fun, and we can all sip tea from little porcelain cups with pink and yellow flowers painted on them!" he clapped his hands together in mock-excitement. As always though, Narcissa took his sarcasm and mocking for real, true excitement, and it never occurred to her that a boy his age wouldn't want to do all the things she imagined would be great fun. And even though Narcissa said words like 'dearest' and things like that to him, it wasn't in a motherly way, just the way one talks to another when one is either extremely ditzy or extremely strange. "Ok then, ta, Narcissa, I'll see you later for your special little party," Draco giggled, and turned away to leave, waving in a feminine manner over his shoulder.

"Draco, honey! Your nails! They're simply horrid! I'll send a house elf up later to give you a manicure and a pedicure, because they're just beastly, not to mention grimy- ugh. Well see you then," she called, and went back to fawning over the painting that-had-always-been-there.

Draco giggled, and stepped out of the room, his stupid grin immediately dropping itself to a scowl. "Incompetent idiotic woman," he muttered under his breath and went into his room, a few doors down. A house elf was drawing the curtains, so Draco shouted, "OUT!" at the little thing, and it scurried out, bowing. He locked the door behind it, and flung himself on his royal blue satin four-poster king sized bed, sighing. Boredly he tried to stare at his nose, and he stuck out his tongue to see how long it was. He ran a hand through his spiked silvery blonde hair, his silvery eyebrows raised just for the heck of it. "I'm bored, bored, bored, bored-diddy-bored, bored, bored," he sang to himself.

He rolled over, trying to get comfortable, and shrieked with pain. "Ugh! I demand of you! Who has dared pierce my highly worshiped royal skin?" he yelled to nobody inparticular. "Oh." He shrugged to himself as saw a little dart that went to his dartboard he had left out. Smirking, he flung it over his shoulder, eyes closed, in the direction of the dartboard. He heard the familiar thump of his accurate and much practiced aim and turned to see where his dart had gone. On the dartboard was of course, who else, but Potter's picture, and his special little dart had managed to beam Potter right in his stupid scar. Draco laughed coldly to himself and flung himself back around on his bed, staring at the ceiling. 

~*~*~*~*~*~

Hermione Granger slipped on her shoes for no reason except she liked the feel of them as she sat down on her porch swing. Ron and the Weasley's would be there any moment to pick her up for the rest of the summer, and Harry would be joining them in a few days. Over the summer, she had discovered she had somewhat of a crush on Ron; now that Viktor was safely back in Bulgaria where he belonged. She smiled to herself serenely as she thought of the shiny silver prefect badge locked away safely in her trunk. That was what she had worked for the past four years, and she had gotten it. Harry got one too, but unfortunately Ron hadn't, and he was quite mopey about it. Hermione thought it better if she just didn't mention anymore about it if possible. She was also really looking forward to seeing Ginny, who was getting quite beautiful indeed. If Harry didn't notice Ginny this year, then he needed even thicker glasses, she thought to herself.

Her parents were both at work of course, so she had just shut the door to their snug, comfy two-story house that was designed as though it were a farmhouse. Her chocolate eyes narrowed their long, black lashes as some wind blew, making her long, brown hair flail a little. Yes, the hair that had been bushy had started to straighten itself a bit over the summer, so Hermione was hopeful it would be very pretty soon. Laughing slightly, she peered down at the long jeans and the light pink cashmere shirt she was wearing, and thought how strange she would look to the Weasley's. 

Suddenly, from the sky, they came down, and Fred, George, Ginny, Ron, and Mrs. Weasley landed lightly on the grass. Hermione grabbed her trunk and ran, grinning, down the steps to give each one a very large hug. The twins tried to back away playfully, but Hermione ended up huggling them anyhow. She hugged Ron deeply and realized how cute he looked, and both kissed and hugged Mrs. Weasley. Lastly, she hugged Ginny, who did look very stunning for a girl of fourteen. "Hey guys! Thank you so much for letting me stay at the Burrow again, I'm so excited!" she cried.

"Oh you're welcome, honey. Have your broom?" asked Mrs. Weasley patting her hand. She grinned to Ron, who looked suspiciously at her, scrutinizing her every move.

"Yes, Ron, I do own a broom you know," she laughed, and produced one that she had magically collapsed in her trunk. "See? It's a Nimbus2001 that my parents I guess bought me for summer practice," she grinned. Fred and George nearly pounced on it.

"Mind if we check it out for a while then, Hermione? Oh, I say, George, look at this wonderful craftsmanship!" cried Fred, staring in awe at the shiny, sleek well-kept racing broom.

"Sure," Hermione laughed. "Do you guys want to come inside for some lemonade for a minute before we get going? I just made some, and if I do say so myself it's pretty good. Come on," she waved them in, picking up her trunk, and so everyone piled into the Granger home. George and Fred busied themselves playing with the television, and making shouts of exclamation when something 'surprising' happened. Mrs. Weasley poured them all glasses; always the motherly one, and Ginny, Ron, and Hermione sat down at the kitchen table while Mrs. Weasley went to make sure the twins didn't break anything.

"So, 'Mione, how's the summer been treating you?" Ron asked, sipping some of his lemonade while Hermione got up to get some frosted oatmeal cookies from the cupboard.

"Pretty good, I've been sort of bored without you guys and Harry around, and I miss Hogwarts and all the rest of the people there, you know?" she filled a big plate full and set it in the center of the table. Ron picked one up, and turned it over carefully, staring in awe since he'd never seen one before. Ginny didn't care if she' never seen it, and took a bite out of one. 

"Yeah, I know what you mean. It's hard not having you around Herm, because all boys are no fun sometimes," laughed Ginny, tucking a strand of waist-length dark red hair behind her ear. Her cinnamon eyes sparkles with amusement as she watched Ron take a little nibble of the cookie, turn it over in his hand again, tap it, and then take another nibble. "Honestly Ron, just eat it," she rolled her eyes.

Hermione laughed. "Yeah, they're actually pretty good," and she bit into one. "What are we all giving Harry for his birthday tomorrow? We have to send it via owl of course because he's not coming to your house till next week… I got him a very large chocolate cake with vanilla icing and a card and a few Quidditch books,"

Ginny sighed dreamily. Hermione thought Harry quite lucky that Ginny was still in love with him after all this time. "I got him one of every sweet in Honeyduke's," she smiled to herself, and Ron smirked to Hermione.

"And I got him some stuff from Zonko's and a cake," he smiled. "Well, we're sending him enough sweets then. I still can't believe those stupid Muggles are making that Dudley kid be on a diet. He's the size of an elephant now, or so Harry wrote me. It's hilarious, it is,"

Ginny and Hermione laughed. "Yes," Hermione agreed. "I really feel sorry for him. Hopefully he can go and live with Snuffles soon,"

"Snuffles?" asked Ginny.

"Nobody," snapped Ron. "Mind your own business," Ginny rolled her eyes as he finished, and took another sip of her lemonade. 

"Brothers are boring. Herm, why can't you be my sister?" she said dejectedly, crossing her arms resolutely and giving Ron a slight glare. Hermione grinned.

"I think I know how you feel," she poked Ron because he was trying to dissect the oatmeal cookie or something, and Hermione shook her head not to. Ron shrugged and plopped it all at once into his mouth. Ginny gave Hermione a look that meant 'See what I mean? What dolts men are!' and Hermione half-agreed when she thought of the boys she knew. There was Harry and Ron of course, and they were cool, and Fred and George were great, and Bill and Charlie Weasley were pretty cool too. Percy was sort of a git, as Fred and George had so blatantly put it many times before, not to mention some of the guys at school, like Neville for instance, who had asked her to the Yule Ball the previous year. And then there were the boys she despised: Malfoy, and even Crabbe and Goyle. Hermione shuddered just remembering that going back to Hogwarts meant seeing them. After a while, of course, they all mounted their brooms and began to fly for the Burrow. 

Hermione didn't feel so passionately about flying as Ron did, and her feelings about it didn't even resemble Harry's in the slightest. She felt kind of woozy when she boarded one, and when she was actually up in the air she found it kind of uncomfortable and stomach turning. And then, if she ever flew into a cloud, she got dizzy, and she was always very tense when being high aloft in the heavens, with pretty good reason too. She could only practice levitating on her broom all the summed because she really couldn't be seen flying around in her backyard, now could she? It even risky for the Weasley's to be picking her up this way, but the Granger household didn't have a fireplace.

Speeding and speeding along the way, she clutched on until her hands felt sore and her knuckles were white (in other words, for dear life), but Ginny and Ron flew on either side of her, talking to her and reassuring her, so she didn't totally bug out or anything. Even from four years of tedious flying practice at school, Hermione still had her fear of heights and fear of spiraling downward and smacking the earth with a thud. That was why she had always been content to watch as Harry played Quidditch in the stands with Ron, and had never gone out for the team herself.

It was a long journey, across England to be exact, so it took about a half hour to reach the tall, rickety Burrow, but when they did, Hermione was glad she had flown anyway for the thrill of landing on the soft, dewy grass. It was raining heavily, but the rain was warm, as many summer showers are, so after they had gotten her settled in, in Ginny's room, Ron, Ginny and she went out and sort of danced in the rain. They laughed and splashed and caught raindrops on their tongues, and as Mrs. Weasley glanced out the window, she thought they'd catch their death of a cold before the day was done. Ginny was trying to pounce on Ron from behind, unsuccessfully I might add, and so Hermione took the opportunity to just be. 

It's a very hard thing to do, that is, to just be. Try it if you like. Hermione cleared every thought- and I mean every thought, even thinking about not thinking thoughts, and slowly but surely her breathing rate died away to little more than nothing, and she was just frozen. Now, I, the author person of this whole thing, have managed to do what Hermione did right there, and I would like to see if you can do it too… believe me; it's really hard. Her moment of pure freeness and understanding did not last long because Ron came charging at her, grinning, and Hermione laughed, running around the house, him following closely, and then Ginny was chasing Ron, and Hermione was sort of following Ginny, so they were basically just going in a big circle.

Hermione knew she was a very lucky girl to have such amazing friends and family and to do so well at school. She loved her life and drank in the beauty of the whole thing, just having fun and living to the fullest. She figured that this fifth year at Hogwarts ought to be her most amazing, wonderful year yet, what with her shiny prefect badge and all, and she didn't know how closer to the truth she could possibly get to. 

She spent the rest of the summer of course with the Weasley's and Harry and one very good thing was that Harry wasn't completely blind, and had seen that Ginny at least looked pretty good. The day he came he had peered at her queerly for a moment, and then embraced her tightly like he did Mrs. Weasley and Hermione. Near the end of August, a few days before they would go to Diagon Alley, he had whispered to Ron and Hermione in an undertone about 'how much Ginny had changed', and he wondered if she still liked him. Ron and Hermione profusely assured him that she did, and it seemed to Hermione that Harry tucked it in, somewhere deep in his mind, and would remember that little known fact for later. Things were most definitely looking up, and Hermione knew that they were on to bigger and better things.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Bitterly, Draco flung down his trunk at the foot of his bed at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and sat down upon it, pondering over the events of that first day. That giant oaf, Hagrid had towed the sissy little first years over the lake in the storm, most like the one that tumbled down on his first day of magical education four years ago that day. The sorting ceremony had been a bore as always, and the frightened little souls the scraggly hat had sorted in to Slytherin were hardly worthy of their newfound prestigious title. Crabbe had tipped over his pumpkin juice- twice- but that was nothing out of the ordinary of course, and Goyle had been trying his very hardest- and this wasn't saying much- to flirt with Pansy Parkinson to no avail. Pansy was ugly, of course, to Draco's tastes anyway, with her honey brown hair and light, drab eyes and turned up nose, and of course she was chubby, but as far as Slytherin girls went, she was actually one of the prettier ones. She had had a major crush on Draco since like their second year, and quite frankly, Draco detested it.

Potter and his fan club were of course acting annoyingly giddy as always, and Weasley was looking a little upset that both the jumped up Mudblood Granger and Potty had gotten Prefect and he hadn't. Draco was a prefect too. Unfortunately, he hated the whole idea of it, but Severus Snape had fixed it so that he would be in, as some kind of deal with Lucius since they had been friends when they attended Hogwarts. Guiding the stupid first years to the Slytherin dungeons and telling them the password, which was 'Gryffindors Stink'. Oh joy, whoop-de-diddle-doo. Draco was so ecstatic. 

Granger and Potter were both in their glories, but even more so with Granger, being the bookworm know-it-all she always had been and always would be. Grudgingly, Draco admitted to himself that she was slightly prettier than Pansy, but perhaps that was only because Pansy had nearly made him up chuck when she had attempted to sit on his lap down in the common room, which was why he had moved to the safety of his dorm. At school he didn't really have the attitude he used with his parents, but this year he thought he'd kind of mix and match a bit. You know, give everyone a really big shock. Maybe snap at dearest Professor Snape, or poke his tongue out at McGonagall and giggle like a girl when he got excited. Yes, he figured since the stupid nettle wine cure failed to work, leaving his life still a nightmare, he thought he'd just make everyone else's a living hell too. Why not? Just for the heck of it.

His hallucinations had become really very severe, especially when the objects of them came before Draco's eyes that day. This girl was not one anyone'd expect Draco Malfoy to be even shedding a precious second thought about it. Draco didn't even know what had gotten into him… at first he had just started thinking about how stupid she was, but then he started thinking lightly how smart and free and pretty she was, and then his thoughts bounded into a couple of dreams that she was in. He tried to get it to stop, but all that ended up happening was Draco not being able to get her out of his mind, and then he had dreams about her every night… sometimes even dancing in the rain with those Weasley's. And the stupid physiatrist was full of bull, so that was no help to him, and then- just- now, today, he had actually seen her, and Draco Lucius Malfoy went dizzy.

He blinked to himself and bit his cheek, glaring at Crabbe who was trying to tie his shoe, and failing miserably. Crabbe and Goyle were not friends, they were bodyguards… his protection, his people to be seen around with, the two that would beat anyone up at a flick of his pretty little wrist. "Duh—Hey, Draco, do ya think ya could help me?" the big oaf blundered. Draco narrowed his eyes and put on a 'disgusted' sneer on his face.

"_No_," he snickered, and rose from his uncomfortable position on the trunk. Classes of course didn't start until the next day of course, but he felt that he should probably go down to the library and make sure he had all his summer homework done. He slung his book bag over his shoulder and left, Crabbe still trying to tie his shoe dumbly. Being a Malfoy, he hardly ever spent time in the library- he had better things to do, like trying to beat out Potter, but nonetheless he found the dusty, oak doors, and opened the one he knew was creaky just to irritate Madame Pince, who in Draco's opinion was a stuck up old cow. (A/N: Diva D: Remind you of anyone- or should I say anything? LOL!)

The stuck up old cow herself gave him a disproving look as he shut it behind him, being as noisy as possible. The library was deserted, and Draco smacked his forehead, realizing that it was closing. "Young man," called Madame Pince's throaty, absurd voice. "The library is closing. Please, leave, and return to your common room," she said, eyes narrowed. 

"Aw, hold your hair on lady, I'm just-" as Draco began, starting to look sulky, he stopped, as something that looked like a black and brown streak of lightning flash over to Madame Pince's desk, the whirlwind's hands clenched to the edge of the desk, peering the Stuck Up Old Cow in the eyes.

"Oh, please Madame Pince… only just twenty more minutes? Please? It's me! You can even leave me to lock up like you let me last year! I'm a prefect now, you know," the girl- for Draco was no slowly realizing with horror that that was what it was- begged, looking to the old bat imploringly. Madame Pince pushed up her teal, eye-shaped glasses and puckered her overly lipsticked red lips. Her grayish-brown hair was tightly curled, and cut short, so she plumped it up a bit before narrowing her eyelids and extending a tickle-me-pink polished fingernail over to Draco who was frozen, mid-step.

"Well… alright. You can lock up, Hermione, I trust you," she said slowly. Draco twisted his face up in horror, and was glad that his back was turned from the two females. It was Granger! Madame Pince prodded her finger in the air over to Draco's direction. "But then you'll have to watch him too," she warned. Hermione didn't even spin around to see who it was. She didn't really care.

"Ok, ok, I'll watch him, just please let me lock up!" she cried, bouncing on the balls of her feet, a trait she had always had when she got overly-excited or irritated. Madame Pince handed her a shiny silver key, and looked trustingly into her eyes. 

"Thank you Hermione, I really do need to go talk to Minerva McGonagall about the a research project she's assigning… so, just do mind you keep an eye on that young man, and lock the doors when you leave,"

"Of course, Madame Pince, no problem," Hermione ushered her out, nearly giddy with the joy of being trusted with so 'great' a responsibility. Draco nearly screamed, 'Unjust!' but just barely managed to contain himself. As soon as the door shut, Hermione flung herself around, leaning against the door, sighing with both relief and bliss. Wait a second, here. She blinked, hoping she was imagining things. 

Draco couldn't stand it any longer. Okay, okay, so he was _not_ having hallucinations- he had started to like the promise of a challenge with getting the Mudblood Granger for a girl. He shrugged to himself, and finally planted both feet on the firm ground, and decided, with his snotty, spoiled rotten air: 'Whatever I want, I get.' And so that was that. 

Perhaps, you, reader, don't understand how a guy like Draco Malfoy could switch so easily from hateful malice to having love- or at least controlling- interests concerning a girl like Hermione Granger, but if you think about it, it would actually be quite probable. He supposed he always kind of subconsciously fancied her rude awakenings and the way she stood up to him, and defied him. Because defiance was what he was all about, and it just all fit in perfectly that Lucius would be horrified if Draco ever started dating a Mudblood Gryffindor. 'Yes,' Draco thought. 'Yet another way to anger and confuse and defy everyone. Hm, I'm so smart!' he complimented himself, and spun around to see a very pale Hermione grasp the silver key in her hand.

"Malfoy…" she said in an undertone, her eyes narrowed, fists clenched at her sides. Draco snorted. He simply must have her! Why hadn't he thought of this whole thing before? A nice fresh challenge, a little new meat, and the chance to screw around and manipulate everyone's minds. It was the perfect opportunity! Eyeing her anger and confusion amusedly, he put a smirk on his face, and clasped his hands behind his back, taking a light, springy step forward.

"Why, hello Granger, dear," he said, his voice dripping with sweetness. He batted his long, black eyelashes at her, and let out a shrill giggle. She stared openly at him and showed no sign of amusement. Stonily, with a quick gesture of her hand, she waved her obviously-bitten nails toward the doors.

"Leave," she said quite plainly, and slowly edged around him, in a circle-ish fashion, remaining at all times at least two yards away from him, so he was the one that was closer to the door.

Draco's left eyebrow twitched and his nostrils flared, as if he were enjoying being booted out of the library by his supposed enemy. "Why, sweetheart, you treat me like you don't like me," he mocked, and giggled at his own joked, making himself flush slightly (something he'd picked up long ago just to look so cute he'd get what he wanted). 

"It's Her-my-oh-knee," Hermione glared at him. "And what's wrong with you? Turned gay or something?" she wrinkled her nose and then shruged, as if the question was better left unanswered. Draco put his palms together, put on a face of mock happiness and raised his hands up near his cheek, and began clapping in a mock feminine way. Rolling her eyes, Hermione decided she was most certainly not going to leave, so she'd just ignore him. "Fine then, if you insist on staying, just leave me alone," she slammed down her Advanced Transfiguration book for emphasis. Draco just started to hum and skip around the room like a little girl.

Scowling, Hermione began reading by the candlelight and taking notes on a blank sheet of parchment. She had come to the library, of course, to get some last-minute-note-taking in, just in case there was something she had forgotten, and fully intended to do so. She set her book bag down on the table, for easy access, and began to loose herself in her reading. Draco, behind her, was oblivious to the fact that she neither cared nor wanted to know what he was doing, and so he was dancing around on his tip toes in a ballet fashion. He made believe he was a pretty little fairy princess and it was his grand day at the ball. All of a sudden, he got the gist that Hermione was too caught up in her reading, so he giggled loudly. Hermione's head remained bent. Draco glared at her hair, which undoubtedly smelled delicious…

He shook his head in utter disbelief. Nah, he didn't really like the jumped up Mudblood, did he? No, of course not: she was just an easy way to help him do what he wanted and screw up his life. Right, good then. He began to walk over stealthily- and rather seductively- toward her turned back, but half way there he tripped loudly over one of the books she'd accidentally dropped in her earlier whirlwind. "D*** book! Burn it!" he cried, half blind with anger and embarrassment at the God forsaken Herbology textbook.

"Have a nice trip, see you next fall," Hermione said breezily, not even glancing up from her book. Draco helped himself up, dusted off his robes, and moved to sit at the empty seat next to her. He pulled it out, sneering to himself. Without glancing up again, Hermione, with a very quick whack of her hand, shoved her bag off the table and into the seat, making Draco raise his eyebrows, and walk around the table and pull out the chair facing her. She shoved a notebook down on that one. Narrowing his eyes, Draco tried to the one to the right, and Hermione pushed down a pencil box, but he tried the one to the left, and Hermione pushed down her Charms book. He blinked, and tried the other chair next to Hermione, but her lightning fast hand had already pushed down her Care of Magical Creatures textbook. Draco sighed, and took the chair next to that one, and thankfully for him, Hermione really couldn't reach. He tried to look cool, and he leaned backwards, running a hand through his hair, forgetting about making sure all his homework was done.

All Hermione did was blink, and flip the large, yellowed page with the spidery, flourished print on it. "Yo, Granger," Draco sniggered. Hermione clenched her jaw and cocked her head up at him ever so slightly, annoyed. "Madame Pince said you were supposed to watch me," he raised an eyebrow, and switched himself and the COMC book from chair to chair to get closer to her.

"You're a big, mean, boy Malfoy, you can take care of yourself, I'm so sure," she said coldly and flipped the page again, continuing on scratching her quill on the other sheet of parchment. Draco scowled at her bent over head and bent back even farther in the chair, setting his feet on the table. Hermione set down her quill, folded her hands, and slowly moved her grim face upward, scrutinizing his face with a mixture of anger and annoyance. He shrugged to her and put his hands on his neck, letting his head rest. "Why are you staring at me? Stop it," she hissed at him.

"You can't make me!" he poked his tongue out at her and let his eyes rove across the room. Uh, books, books, books, oo- window, books, books, books, Granger. What interesting options he had to choose from… books or Granger, books, Granger… ha, no contest. 

"I thought I told you to stop it you git," Hermione glared. 

"And I thought I told you, you couldn't make me," he smirked. Hermione grinned. "Holy s***!" yelped Draco. He was lying on the ground, because he had just toppled over with the chair when Hermione had been so gracious as to kick him somewhere very not nice under the table. She collected her books in his moments of agony, and shoved them into her bag, stomping to the doors and opening them wide. Draco knew she was leaving, so he managed to grab his bag and race to the door. He blocked it defensively, and stared at her defiantly. "Ya know, it's funny, I get this really strange feeling that you don't like me or something," he sneered.

"Actually, I don't dislike you," Hermione admitted thoughtfully.

"Really?" Draco slid a hand through his hair, enjoying the moment, as if Hermione had just confessed her undying love for him, and had agreed to snog with him for the rest of her life. 

"It's the truth," she shrugged. "I don't dislike you. I hate your filthy, stinking guts Malfoy!" she shouted at him, agitated. Ok, so this time he hadn't really done anything… except for being extremely obnoxious, but Hermione's high-strung temper was rising at a significant fast rate. 

"Are you leaving then?" he asked lazily.

"No, you are," she scowled, and gave him one swift push, slamming the door behind her. Draco, down on his bum on the floor, papers and books sprawled everywhere, listened to the familiar sound of a key locking a lock. He groaned to himself. He fallen to the ground like what, three times in the last five minutes? Okay, so maybe this whole business wouldn't be so easy…

~*~*~*~*~*~ 

For the rest of September, Draco spent his free time scrutinizing Hermione's actions, and spying on her and Potty and the Weasel and that little red-haired Weasley girl. She talked to and advised Harry a lot about his girl troubles, and in return, he listened intently as she admitted her feelings for the Weasel. Draco, of course, reckoned this would be a problem, but knew exactly how to get around it. Listening to those two was like watching the romance channel on a Muggle television. When she talked to Ginny, Hermione laughed a lot and talked about things girls generally do to each other. But when Hermione talked to Ron, she always had a faint smile, but bickered with him constantly. Draco easily saw through her cover-up, and was almost amused about how after an argument with Weasley was over she turned away to blush. He learned that she took life a lot less seriously than he remembered her to, and she laughed and smiled a lot more. Her grades were as always, top notch, and Draco also noticed how her hair had straightened out even more.

He saw her one day when everyone was at dinner (he wasn't hungry) down by the lake, and saw her scribbling- or rather sketching- away dreamily on a piece of parchment. Quietly, he watched her from afar, and took in how sad she looked in her eyes, mixed in with the dreaminess and the starry dazzle. In a little while she got up and left, but the sheet she had been scribbling on fell out of her bag, and the soft, gentle late September wind blew it closer to him. He chased it until it was finally clasped in between his pale fingers. 

Yeah, he recognized that loopy, perfect cursive as Hermione's own hand, but what was written was anything but what the normal, flared-up-temper, argumentative, bossy, bookworm Granger. It was full of silly hearts and rainbows and clouds and goofy little sayings telling the world 'I like Ron Weasley', and things like that. From his careful observation, Draco saw easily that Ron was way too thick to ever figure out Hermione's feelings unless she told him (which he was positive she wouldn't). It was a very new concept for him; that someone even so mature and cold (well at least to him) was capable of feeling such warm, thrilling emotions he'd never experienced. If Lucius had even taught his son one thing, it would have had to be to never date or marry for love, only for influence and money and power. 

If there could be a more perfect time to launch his devious plan into action Draco couldn't imagine it, so he decided that the very next day he'd begin to make Hermione Granger all his. His plan you ask? Date and kiss her a little, make sure he thoroughly confused everyone in the wizarding world, and then dump her sorry bum in front of everyone. Laughing coldly to himself, he put it in his pocket, and walked stealthily down to the Slytherin dungeons.

True to his thoughts, Draco cornered Hermione in the second floor corridor right after the last class of the day, Charms, the next day. Harry and Ron had already gone off because of Gryffindor Quidditch practice (Ron wasn't on the team of course, he'd just come along to watch), and Ginny was away with her fourth year friends, so Hermione was left well alone. Smiling and waving to Pansy, Draco walked about seventy centimeters from Hermione, but when they both turned the corner, the hallway became deserted, so he edged in closer. Hermione was about to tell him off when he whispered, "I know about your little secret, Granger," Hermione promptly shoved into the nearest empty classroom.

"Malfoy, what's up with you? We hate each other for God's sake, so I don't see why just all of a sudden you're so interested in my own personal life!" she snapped. "What the heck do you mean by saying you 'know my little secret'? I really don't have any secrets,"

Draco leaned against the wall casually. "Oh really then Granger? Well I'll tell you what little secret I know: Hermione Granger likes Ron Weasley," he sniggered. Hermione's stomach did a flip flop for two reasons: one was obvious, he did actually know her secret, and two, it was the first time he'd ever used her first name.

She tried her very hardest to look un-amused and calm and she also tried to steady her trembling hand. She let out a rather shrill forced laugh. "Malfoy, you're insane and should be sent to St. Mungo's! My God, it's just absurd," she laughed again. "Imagine… you thinking that I liked Ron," she brought her wrist level with her shoulder and snapped her wrist as if to say 'Oh please' in a sarcastic tone. Draco surveyed her in amusement.

"Um, yeah," he mock grinned as she continued on laughing slightly. He laughed too, but reached into his pocket, grabbing the parchment, and held it out for her to see, cutting his laugh off abruptly. Hermione choked and blinked furiously, making a wild snatch for the paper. "Nuh-uh," Draco shook his head, thoroughly enjoying her anxiety. "You see, Granger, I'm not giving this back to you,"

Hermione blinked in horror. "W-what? But you've got to!" she stumbled.

"Nope, I don't. Instead, Granger, I'm going to help you," Draco held his head prominently high, as if Hermione should fall down on the floor and kiss his shoes for speaking. Instead, she rolled her eyes.

"What exactly do you mean by that?"

"Please, be seated," he waved his hand toward the desks. Grudgingly, she sat; arms propped up to support her head. He paced around in front of her, much like a professor would do. "I'm a guy," he stated.

"No s***, Sherlock,"

He glared at Hermione. "I'm a guy, so I know how we of the male species think. Let me tell you, Weasley doesn't even know that you have any feelings for him whatsoever. You're a smart girl, I'm sure you've noticed. I'm also sure you've become familiar with that beastly Weasley temper, and this brings me to my point,"

"Which is?"

"If you want Weasel to like you, you have to make him angry so his temper gets aroused. In order to make him angry, you should make him jealous. It's all very relative in theory. Do you follow me?"

"Yes, but I wish you'd get to the point soon,"

"Fine, fine, and how do you go about getting Weasley angry and jealous then? Date someone else of course! That stupid Viktor Krum didn't exactly do the trick for you last year because Weasel hero-worshipped him. Do you understand?" Hermione nodded, peering curiously at him. Imagine what this was all like for her: your arch enemy suddenly being interested in you, getting an almost complete personality check, and actually making sense. She almost- just almost- felt woozy. "So, Granger, who ya gonna date then?" he narrowed his eyes. Hermione met his eye gazing challenge.

"Seamus," she blinked, determined not to let Malfoy snub her.

"Too short,"

"Dean,"

"Too pushy,"

"Neville,"

"Too idiotic even for you,"

"Fine then, Justin Finch-Fletchy,"

"Uh- yeah, _right_, Granger…"

"Is there any point to this whatsoever?"

"Yes,"

"Then kindly move along quicker so I can leave,"

"Hold your hat on. I'll tell you who you're going to date,"

"Who?"

"Me!"

"YOU!?" Hermione nearly had a heart attack between her thoughts that Malfoy really did need to be sent to St. Mungo's, laughing so hard, and getting the biggest surprise of her entire life all at once. She was cracking up, tearing at the eyes in fact, and Draco stood scowling at her, hands on his hips, looking dead serious. "Oh- _oh_," Hermione tried to stop her laughter, and managed to subdue it down to a giggle. "You're serious," she coughed into her fist, wiping her eyes.

"D*** right I'm serious!" he sent her a death glare, his handsome face contorted into his famous spoiled snob five-year-old expression. Hermione proceeded to try to look a bit serious over the whole thing, but in her mind she knew she'd never she Draco Malfoy in the same fashion again. He puckered his lips, pouting, and tapped his foot impatiently on the floor. "Well?"

"Well what?" Hermione asked, a huge grin plastered on her face. Wait until she told Harry, Ron, and Ginny about this little escapade—or wait, she couldn't tell Ron. Darn it!

"Well, are you going to date me to make Weasley like you or not?" he sighed, pacing around again. Hermione smirked.

"Uh, let me think about that for a second… _no_!"

Draco rolled his eyes. "Think, Granger. You agree that it's probably the only way to arouse Weasel's interests in you, am I correct?" he waited for her answer almost nervously, his hands again behind his back, clasped together. Hermione surveyed him with interest.

"Yes, I agree. But there are lots of things I don't understand. For one, why you even care if Ron likes me or not, two, why you're even speaking to me, three, you must be on medication or something to even propose such a stupid idea, four, what's in this whole deal for you, and five, how a Gryffindor and Slytherin could have had an almost civil conversation," she waited for his answers, watching him pace.

"One, I don't care if you and the Weasel end up snogging of not, two, I'm only speaking to you because I want to make a deal, three, I'm not on medication and it's not a stupid idea, four, I get lots of benefits such as being able to make a lot of people furious with me and screw around with everyone's minds, and five, I think we've made history by doing so. Happy?"

"No. So what exactly are you proposing Malfoy?"

"Quite simple. I'm saying we should act like we like each other and date. You're the perfect opportunity for me to amaze and awe everyone, especially Lucius. I love defying people, and this year I want to make sure everyone's head spins. I'm gonna make sure one way or another I get everybody wrapped right around my pretty little finger this year, and I'm going to give everyone a h*** of a ride. You know, Granger, shake everyone up, cause havoc, make a complete fool of myself and disgrace the family name. Yeah, that's about why I want to pretend to date you. Now, for you, when Weasley sees that you're dating me- a Slyth and his arch enemy- his head's gonna roll. Naturally, once we hook him along for awhile (and everyone else in the process) we 'dump' each other and you run right into the Weasel's filthy arms. Get that? It's like that old saying, 'You don't know what you got until you loose it'. And so now, I'm going to give you some time- like three minutes- to figure out if you accept the challenge. I'll have you know that if you do, you have to follow my lead, and when I say jump, you say how high, got it? I'm taking this thing to the extreme, whether you want along for the ride or not,"

Hermione blinked. So, she thought it over silently. She did have to admit his logic was undeniable, and she did really want Ron to notice her in that way… Even her complicated and knowledgeable mind couldn't figure out another way to really get Ron shaken up, and it was in fact true, that Malfoy would be the perfect one to help her. But then there was the whole thing about her Gryffindor pride and her spirit and her honor. If she were to make this deal, it would mean that she would let all of those things slip from her fingers like grains of sand. She could in time earn it all back, of course, because she was after all Hermione Granger, but to put her life morals in jeopardy? Perhaps reader, you've ever been in love, or a very deep and desperate like, and if this is the case, then you know how your emotions cloud your mind and practically push you off the deep end. And this was why, when Draco so rudely announced her time up, she spat out her answer:

"Okay, okay… I'll do it," she whispered, swallowing deeply, her eyes pinched shut. "Even though I know it's like selling my soul to the devil," she muttered as an afterthought. Draco didn't care, he just smirked royally at her, contemplating the possibilities. He had Granger, now all he had to do was carry out his devious plan. This was going to be good. 

I need someone; I won't stop till I find the one, who will stop the longing in my life. I need someone; I won't stop till I find the one that will stop the longing in my love. I'm super girl, and I'm here to save the world, but I wanna know who's gonna save me. I'm super girl, and I'm here to save the world, but I wanna know why I feel so alone. I'm super girl, and I wanna know who's gonna save me. I'm super girl, and I'm here to save the world, and I wanna know why I feel so alone. I'm super girl, I wanna know who's gonna save me. 'Cause I'm super girl, and I'm here to save the world, but I wanna know who's gonna save me…

-- Super Girl, by Krystal Harris, as lyrics are on the soundtrack to The Princess Diaries, licensed to Krystal Harris and Walt Disney Incorporations.

PLEASE REVIEW BELOW!!! THANK YOU FOR READING!!!


	2. Chapter Two PREVIEW

~*~Hermione's Fallen Angel~*~

**PREVIEW! PREVIEW! PREVIEW!**

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**THIS IS ONLY A VERY SHORT PREVIEW OF THE SECOND CHAPTER! IF YOU WANT THE FIRST PART TO IT, PLEASE FEEL FREE TO READ! = )**

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**~*~Hermione's Fallen Angel~*~**

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**Chapter Two**

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(Author's Note: Hee, hee, hee. Ain't I a sneaky little thing? There are lots of hidden jokes in this only certain people will understand. I have no idea when this is going to be posted since stupid ff.n is having so many troubles with all their servers. Doesn't it just suck how right when you're really into something online it seems to come crashing down on you? Computers are evil, evil things I declare! We need to rebel against the evil computers and fling ourselves into the fifth dimension so we can travel to a remote universe in a different realm and save the world and fall in love, and then finally when we're all happy we find out we most leave our loves and go rebuild Heaven since there was a war and it got all ruined, and never see our love's precious face ever again, well except when we're all dead and rotting with worms up our noses! Oh- and yeah, we need some flying monkeys and some tellies and perhaps even we can be in mortal danger 24/7! *Cackles insanely* Oh yes, one more thing- after you're done reading this, a star will self-destruct, create massive fireballs, which will crash into the earth in a thousand years, destroying civilization as we know it, leaving the only living creatures to be sea plasma. Um, yes, so sue, I've been reading far too much and mixing and matching book plots and adding some junk of my own. And is it that big of a deal I'm sort of drunk on fizz right now? Good, I didn't think so! Cheerio!)

**_I don't need you to tell me I'm pretty to make me feel beautiful. I don't need you to give your strength to make me feel strong. I got all of the strength I need right here in my own two hands. All that I want is your love and respect for who I am. What I really need comes from deep inside of me. Don't need you to tell me I'm pretty to make me feel beautiful, don't need you to make me strong cause I'm strong on my own. Doesn't come from outside, this beauty I know comes from inside my soul, don't need you to tell me I'm pretty. I don't need you to believe in me to make me know I'm worth believing in, I don't need you to lift me up higher to know I can stand tall, I can stand tall. I can stand high and proud._**

"And so you're trying to tell me what exactly?" Severus Snape stirred his tea as he watched his favourite student grin at him. Draco and Snape, despite the age difference, were very close. Since Lucius was never a very fatherly figure- well, neither was Snape- Draco found that the only person he could ever trust in his whole life was the greasy, rude Potions master, Head of the Slytherin house. "That you made a deal with a Gryffindor, Mr. Malfoy?" Snape peered curiously at Draco, his face stern, but his eyes dancing with amusement. Call it whatever you like, but perhaps the best word for the relationship between these two, was Snape being sort of a mentor of all trades.

"Yes, professor, quite. You know Granger is the perfect one to do it, I can see your little amused look in your eyes. And, you understand, of course, that this conversation is strictly to be confined to this room?"

"But of course,"

"Good. It's my life, you know, and Lucius- well, you know how he is- he doesn't love me; h***, he doesn't even _like_ me, but he has this whole family-name-pride thing, and I've been just itching for ages now to screw it all up. Who knows, professor, my attitude check might turn out to be a good thing for many reasons- I- no matter what side I end up on- will always win," Draco was straddling his chair backwards, his arms folded on the top of it, his chin resting luxuriously on them. "Do you approve?"

"Well, Mr. Malfoy, in my day, we never did things like this because it was highly frowned on, much as it is today," Snape cocked an eyebrow. "But- unlike your father, I really have no say in your life, seeing as _you_ own it, and Slytherin pride prohibits me from attempting to thwart your plans- however unheard of and sinister they may be," Snape chose his words wisely.

"Yeah, yeah, you know you're rooting for me, professor-kins," Draco snorted loudly, but Snape only sipped his tea, his face showing no concern for the matter whatsoever. "Man, I don't see how you could have ever been best friends with Lucius! For God's sake, the man's stark raving sensible!" he shuddered.

Instead of commenting, a slight smile spread across the teacher's lips. "You remind me strongly of someone. Lets just hope your future doesn't choose the same course as the person I have in mind," Before Draco could question, Snape glanced at the big clock on the wall. "Unfortunately, I have a meeting, so we'll have to cut this little get together short. Just a few words of advice before you go and a question,"

"Suit yourself," Draco shrugged.

"Do you and Granger have any one thing in common?" Snape sneered. Draco actually thought it about it, so the Potions master waited patiently. Finally, after sucking on his cheek for near a full minute, Draco's eyes brightened, and he replied. 

"Yes, we're both attracted to _me_," he said in a brutally honest, snobby fashion. Snape snorted.

"Now the advice. You're fifteen now. Keep in mind that the Dark Side is watching you closely, which is no wonder considering whose son you are. You, Draco Lucius Malfoy, need no one to watch over you, I know that all too well, but I assure you that by what you've decided to do this year will make you seriously repent that. I'm no namby-pamby Gryffindor, so I'm not going to tell you to be careful. My students already know that if I have taught them anything," Draco smirked, but got up. Snape straightened his robes, and while he was doing this, Draco picked up a paperweight off his desk and moved it three centimeters to the left. He turned to leave, but before he got to the door, Snape was reaching, absentmindedly, to fix his weight.

"You know, Snape, you're pretty cool for an old guy," Draco admitted, an eyebrow quirked.

"Thank you Mr. Malfoy," Snape narrowed his eyelids as he watched Draco walk out the door, and walk to wherever pleased him. As soon as Draco was long gone, Snape finished the last sip of his tea, still staring at the door. "And you, Mr. Malfoy, are much more important than you'll ever know."

~*~*~*~*~*~

"So, how are we drawing this whole thing out Malfoy?" Hermione asked with curiosity muffled in her voice. Draco, always the perceptive one, noticed, and took advantage of it. He turned to her, his eyes glowing with mischief, and his lips lifted slightly upwards.

"Hermione dear- you have to call me Draco now, remember?" he reminded in a sickeningly gentle way. All he received was a good swift kick in the shin that made him cringe.

"Like h*** I do! At least not now when we're alone! Answer my question,"

"No,"

"Why?"

"Because I have to tinkle," Draco giggled. Hermione slammed her textbooks down on the library table. 

"Malfoy, I swear to God- you do that in public when I'm within hearing range I'll knock every single one of those pretty white teeth out. You got me?"

"Oo! Granger's turned violent!" Draco snickered, in his element. "A word of warning: don't mess with the ice," his eyes glittered as if on cue. Hermione had a scowl on her face so poisonous looking; it probably would have made anybody else but Draco faint dead away. You could have cut through the tension in the room with a butter knife. Both headstrong fifteen-year-olds stared into each other's eyes, each equally as determined not to break the ferocious glare first. Soft, deep, warm, coffee-coloured eyes burned into harsh, jagged, icy, granite-coloured ones. When it became obvious that Draco had a lot more practice doing this sort of thing than Hermione, she let out a shriek of outrage, and began banging her forehead on the table. Draco crossed his arms on the table, his chin resting on them, and his eyes went up and down like a yo-yo as he watched her head move with rhythmatical beat. 

"Why must you be so peevish?" Hermione demanded of him, still banging her head monotonously on the hard, sturdy table. "It's utterly wretched to have to sit here and listen to you, Your Highness Of Dullsville!"

"Hey now, don't you dare start dragging your big words into this. And I'm not dull, I assure you. I just have to tinkle!" when she showed no sign of amusement over this, he sighed. "What was your question again, then?"

"I asked you, before you delayed this whole thing by being your annoying self, how we are drawing this whole thing out," she stated, looking up from banging her head against the desk. Draco narrowed his eyes as he looked at her. She had a small piece of wood stuck to her forehead, and without even thinking, he raised his hand and brushed it away. Hermione was livid, and she scooted back her chair in protest. "Never." She banged him over the head as hard as she could with her Transfiguration book, the heaviest of the lot. "Ever." She whacked him again, even harder. "Touch." WHACK. "Me." WHACK. "Again." WHACK, WHACK, WHACK.

Draco howled with pain. He, upon instinct, drew out his wand, and pointed it at Hermione before she could even move her hand an inch toward hers. "You forget, my little darling, who you're dealing with here!" he stood up, pushing his chair back, and pointed his wand right up to her neck. Lucky for the both of them, it was again late at night, and Madame Pince had left Hermione in charge. "There's no one else in here except me and you. Meaning no Potty and no Weasel to save you if I chose to do something rather reckless," his words were most definitely threatening, but Hermione simply lifted an eyebrow.

"You can't do one thing to me, because let's face the facts, Malfoy: you need me." Her words were filled with loathing, but they were indeed words of truth and wisdom. "Now I suggest you remove your filthy wand from my face before I snap it in two," she moved her hand up next to it threateningly, and Draco reluctantly dropped it. To her surprise, he sighed.

"Granger, how are we ever going to work together if we can't even hold a conversation without trying to kill each other?" he slumped down in his chair, and for the first time in all the years she'd known him, she saw something in Draco Malfoy she'd never noticed before. He looked tired, and weak, and burdened. 

"Such a fierce little ferret, aren't we Malfoy?" Hermione mused. He didn't even look up, let alone snap back. "But I'm sorry for whacking you those five times," she offered, and he tilted his head up a little.

"It's okay, but actually it was seven. Believe me, I counted,"

"Whatever. I bet they gave you a quick headache though no matter how many times I hit you," she bit her lip. She was right, she realized, he needed her, but she also needed him. Perhaps it was a better idea not to try and attack him every time he spoke. Draco nodded in reply, and pressed a hand to his left eye. "Ah, you have a migraine if your eye hurts. Hey- I know a spell that gets rid of those," she said, with hope of making amends with him.

"By all means then, do it, because I've never had one of these- these things, before in my life, and I'm in horrible throbbing pain!" he let out a moan of anguish, and Hermione couldn't help but laughing.

"Silly little ferret! You won't die from it, you know," she grinned, but he started to pout. Before he could say a word, she pointed her wand at his head. Draco grabbed its tip suddenly and stared at her.

"Hey, watch where you point that thing, okay? You could poke my eye out, and I could die of blood loss, or even worse, ruin my good looks. Besides, I don't think I want you casting spells on me; you'd most likely blow me up!" Hermione withdrew her wand, but an amused smile danced in her eyes.

"Heh, Malfoy, you're afraid of the ickle wand!" she prodded him with it, and watched in her glory as he flinched, and scooted his chair away. 

"Refrain from touching me again Granger, when its against my will, or I'll start charging you admission," he scowled sourly at her. "So, anyhow, I have a schedule for us. You'll just have to work around it, I suppose," he ignored how Hermione's nostrils flared and her eyes grew with irritation and anger. Draco tilted his head, looking at his mortal enemy obliquely. After staring a moment, he pursed his lips, and then spoke again, returning his head to its normal position. "We need to ease into this. Though it would be a greater shock if we just blurted it all out, people wouldn't take it seriously, you understand. If it was me- and say, Pansy Parkinson, then it would be expected and welcomed, but with your personality, things would fail immediately. You get me?"

"Yes. I understand. Everyone knows I'm way too intelligent to date you," Hermione snapped at him, her arms crossed, which made Draco lift an eyebrow, glance at her wand warily, and then smirk.

"Harsh Granger," he shrugged lightly, and watched her amusedly.

"Yeah, isn't it lovely Malfoy? I guess I'm just a real harsh one at heart,"

"Don't be cynical, it only works for me. You're not a Slytherin, fortunately for me; remember? Heh, oh yeah- you go ahead, get mad. You really think I care?" he shook with silent laughter, and Hermione dropped her jaw in amazement, plopping her wand down on the chair. Then, Miss Goody Two Shoes did something that Draco would have never expected of her. Hermione Granger raised her middle finger, and flipped him off crudely, a malicious, hateful look on her face. 

"F*** off!" she whispered. They were both shaking now, Draco still with laughter, and Hermione with absolute rage. "Think me funny do you? Oh, I'm so sorry, Your Highness, I guess I'm unworthy of your greatness, huh?" she raised her voice to a scream, and when he couldn't stop laughing long enough to retort, Hermione dropped her scowl, and looked at him matter-of-factly. "Fine then, Draco, let me prove to you just how 'bad' I can be," he immediately looked shocked, but she only got a glimpse of the curious look, because before she could change her mind, she lowered her head toward his.

Draco had no sense of reality as she lowered her head, much to his disgust, and her soft, un-chapped, gentle lips hovered gently just above his. She gently touched her tongue to his bottom lip, teasing him, and he was in such a state of utter shock, that he couldn't even fight. Draco Lucius Malfoy not fighting? Heh.

He opened his mouth willingly, expecting Hermione to divulge him with a luscious, secret, passionate kiss (which are the best kind of all), but she raised her head and stared at him. "Well?" she demanded after a minute of silence. She looked like she wanted him to say something, as if she had said something just moments ago that Draco had already forgotten… It took every ounce of self-control and training he could muster, not to beg her right then to at least finish the kiss, half-born in the heat of utmost hate, heat, and dirtiness. But he couldn't. And Hermione hadn't kissed him.

Draco put on a look of cool, unbothered, amusement. "You said my name. I'm so very proud of you Hermione. That was a really good effort you showed when you spoke those two very easy syllables. Maybe I can train you someday into saying 'my darling sweetheart', huh?" This was too much for Hermione, and before Draco could embarrass her more, she turned on her heel, walked out the library door, flung the key at his head over her shoulder, and slammed the door behind her.

She'd left her book bag. Hermione hadn't kissed him. 

**END OF PREVIEW! STAY TUNED, THIS CHAPTER WILL BE A LONG ONE, SO PLEASE BE PATIENT; IT WILL BE WELL WORTH YOUR WAIT!!!**


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